


Plans

by rice_and_beans



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, F/F, Lesbian Fleur Delacour, Lesbian Hermione Granger, Mates, Shameless, Smut, fleurmione - Freeform, queers everywhere
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:48:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24824110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rice_and_beans/pseuds/rice_and_beans
Summary: Fleur just can't seem to leave Hermione alone, even after choosing someone else over her. Smut.
Relationships: Fleur Delacour/Hermione Granger
Comments: 10
Kudos: 197





	Plans

**Author's Note:**

> This was basically just an exercise in starting to write and post, and an excuse for smut. I have been watching a lot of Grey's Anatomy lately, so this is essentially a Fleur and Hermione recreation of Derek and Meredith's hospital prom scene. Shameless. Go easy on me, I'm a first-timer :)

Hermione’s hands were gently clasped around the back of Viktor’s neck as they swayed in time to the music. She felt his hands tense around her waist and saw nervousness flash across his face. 

“I hope I am not scaring you off,” the young man followed up. He had just told Hermione that there was something about her, something that gave him hope. That there was something about her that gave the usually morose quidditch star a reason to look forward to the future. For the first time in years he began to think of and to make plans beyond waking up each morning. All because of her.

“You have plans,” she said with a small smile. He was charming, he was a gentleman, and he was handsome. This kind and handsome gentleman was confessing that he saw a future with her and was offering up his heart. 

“I have plans,” he said, smiling and relaxing his grip as he took in Hermione’s visage. She wasn’t running or rejecting him, her smile was open and warm. Perhaps this confession, this risk, would pay off. He let out a sigh in relief as she pulled him in for an embrace. He rested his chin upon her shoulder and felt her rest the side of her face against his neck. He couldn’t have been more content. 

Fleur went from half-listening to completely tuning Bill out. They were dancing, not one of Bill’s strengths. One hand was held by one of his, as her other hand sat properly on his shoulder. She nodded and hummed along as he continued his ramblings about work. Fleur’s eyes finally connected with those of the witch she had been searching for all evening. The brunette’s body was firmly in the embrace of the bulky Bulgarian, but where was her mind? Her heart? Neither could look away. Fleur smirked and raised her eyebrow almost knowingly, in a challenge. 

_Why are you with him when we both know that within my arms is where you truly long to be?_

Hermione’s smile faltered as she wrapped her arms further around Viktor, as if to reassure herself and keep herself in place. Keep herself from gliding across the floor to the Veela. The Veela that had so enraptured her heart and body, turned her world upside down, and had also rejected and hurt her in ways she never thought possible. The magnitude of the ache in her heart was almost unbearable. Why must Fleur keep looking at her like that? Keep haunting her? The veela had made her choice clear, and it wasn’t Hermione that she had chosen. So, Hermione chose to try to move on with another. A deserving, kind, and handsome gentleman who was willing to love her fully and openly. And then Fleur smiled again, in that devious, sexy, and infuriating way, and suddenly it was all too much. 

Hermione’s breath caught, her face flushed and she quickly stepped back from Viktor. She surprised herself, and tried to inhale, exhale, like a normal person. She felt her eyes sting. 

“Are you alright?” Her date asked with concern. 

“Yeah, I just, uh..it’s hot. I’m hot. And...claustrophobic.” She willed her eyes to remain on Viktor, willed her body to calm down. “I think I’m just going to go splash some cold water on my face, try to cool down.” Viktor studied her, startled at the abrupt change in the woman. “I’ll come back and find you in a bit, if that’s alright?” He nodded and said he would fetch them some refreshments. Hermione walked away as quickly as she could without outright revealing that she was fleeing from the situation.

Across the dance floor the veela took a step back from Bill and spoke. “I need to excuse myself for a moment to use the ladies room.” The redhead nodded dumbly. “I will find you when I return, oui?” Before he could respond, Fleur was headed off the dance floor in long, swift and elegant strides. 

Hermione turned down the first hallway outside of the ballroom, desperate to find an open room to hide and collect herself in. She could hear the confident and quick clicking of heels behind her just as clearly as she could feel Fleur’s presence coming closer. 

“ ‘Ermione,” called the cool and calm voice behind her. Hermione picked up the front of her dress to free her legs enough to run away from the blonde. 

“Leave me alone!” She yelled, without looking back. She couldn’t risk looking at Fleur, lest she give in completely and throw herself at the veela. 

“ ‘Ermione!” Fleur yelled, and judging by the sound of the heels she had started to run as well, trying to close the distance between her and the brunette. 

Hermione tried one, and then two door handles before she found an open room. She immediately entered and crossed the room to the other side of a desk, keeping something, anything, between her and Fleur. “Just leave me alone,” she said lowly, as Fleur pushed herself into the room and closed the door. 

“I just wanted to make sure you were alright,” Fleur said after catching her breath and standing tall. She took in Hermione with her eyes, and did not fail to notice that the brunette had made sure there was an obstacle between the two women. 

“No!” Hermione exclaimed, her voice louder and an octave higher than she meant it to be. “I’m not alright, okay? Are you satisfied?” She ran her hands through her hair in an effort to calm herself. In contrast to Fleur’s relaxed and open posture, Hermione’s was defensive. Like an animal cornered and ready to bolt as soon as an opening presented itself. “I’m not alright. Because you have a husband, and you call me a harlot for trying to move on, and the self-refilling quill you gave me ran out of ink! And now you’re looking at me. Stop _looking_ at me,” Hermione tried to strengthen her plea by throwing her hands up at Fleur, as if creating a wall. 

Fleur’s shoulders dropped as she watched the young witch in front of her. Fleur was hurting her, but she couldn’t keep herself away. She made her choice, but she couldn’t stop herself from constantly seeking Hermione out. “I’m not looking at you. I am _not_ looking at you,” Fleur said stubbornly, as she stared at Hermione. They circled around the desk, Fleur trying to get near Hermione and Hermione trying to keep her distance from Fleur.

“You _are_ looking at me. And you watch me. And Viktor has plans! And I like Viktor, he’s perfect for me, and I'm really trying here, to be happy, and I can’t breathe.” Hermione’s eyes were both accusing and pleading. “I can’t _breathe_ with you looking at me like that, so just stop!” 

The air in the room was heavy and thick. Fleur steadied herself. All rational thought was escaping her, and her inner veela’s instincts and emotions were clouding Fleur’s mind. She may have married Bill, but that didn’t mean Hermione wasn’t still hers, damnit. 

“Do you think I want to look at you?” Fleur asked coldly. “That I wouldn’t rather be looking at my husband?” It was Fleur’s turn to feel angry, indignant. Didn’t Hermione understand that Fleur had no choice in any of this? “I’m married. I am to be leader of my clan. I have responsibilities.” Fleur circled around the desk toward Hermione, and Hermione stepped away and gave her back to the blonde. “He- He doesn’t drive me _crazy_ , he doesn’t make it impossible for me to feel _normal_ , he doesn’t make me sick to my stomach thinking about some unworthy other touching him with their hands!” Fleur was almost spitting out her words, as she slammed her fists into the desk, no trace of the elegant grace she usually carried herself with. She found herself standing behind the brunette who still refused to turn around and look at her. “ _Merde_ , I would give anything not to be looking at you!” she barked to Hermione’s back. Silence, heavy and thick still, was suffocating Fleur. She turned in place trying to shake off the tension and heat encompassing her body. 

Hermione took a deep inhale before she steeled herself to turn around. Steeled herself to hold onto the determination and all the reasons why she would not give in to Fleur. Not again. Brown eyes met blue. Hermione realized Fleur’s breath was laboring just as her own was. Seconds past with no words spoken. She watched Fleur’s eyes blink heavily, watched as blue flicked down to Hermione’s lips, and felt the gravity between them continue to pull, pull, pull until

All of a sudden Fleur’s hands were in her hair, and she was kissing her. Fleur’s mouth was hungry, almost trying to devour Hermione’s own, only for Hermione to realize her lips, tongue and teeth were far too willing to reciprocate. It was rough. It had been too long. Hermione wrapped her arms around Fleur’s neck to pull her in closer as she kissed Fleur back with equal fervor, nipped and was nipped back, and let Fleur slide that smooth and talented tongue into her mouth. She moaned. It had been too long. The kiss slowed.

Fleur was simultaneously filled with a sense of urgency and a desire to take her time and relish her mate. She slid her hands to Hermione’s waist, to her back, up to her neck and back down again. She was hungry for her. As she felt Hermione kiss her back, her inner veela purred and a warmth spread through her chest, down her stomach and to her core. This was right. Everything else was wrong. She slowed her lips, massaging them against Hermione’s, and then gently sucked on Hermione’s tongue. Her taste was heavenly. The urgency returned. 

Fleur bent down, wrapped her arms around Hermione’s lithe legs, and lifted her onto the desk. She moved her kisses from the Gryffindor’s lips, across her cheek, to her ear, then neck. She bit down and licked here, and here, and here. All the places she knew would cause Hermione to gasp and cry out. The noises Hermione was making spurred her on, but when she smelled the brunette’s faint and sweet arousal, something inside Fleur snapped. She bit down hard and felt Hermione’s body jolt and press against Fleur for more. 

There was no time to waste. It had been too long. Fleur dragged her hands down Hermione’s sides, squeezed her hips, and grazed over her thighs. She withdrew from Hermione’s neck enough to connect their eyes once again, wordlessly asking permission as her fingers began to push the hem of the brunette’s dress upwards, unceremoniously bunching the cloth as hands made their way towards another cloth barrier. She leaned forward, connecting their lips without breaking eye contact. She allowed one hand to firmly grip Hermione’s waist, as the fingers of the other tentatively caressed against wet fabric. 

Hermione’s eyelids became heavy as she let out a soft whimper. She snaked one hand into blonde tresses, and planted the the other hand behind her to support herself as she gently lifted her hips and pressed forward, encouraging and granting Fleur consent to continue. Fleur immediately moved both hands to grab Hermione’s panties and slide them over her bottom, down smooth legs over past black high heels. She wasted no time as she stood up between Hermione’s legs, opening them further to her, slipped her arm behind the Gryffindor to grab the back of her neck, and pushed two fingers into her mate’s wet and waiting center. Hot, tight. Just as she remembered. Both pairs of eyes shut tight as both women moaned at the feel of connecting with their lover once again. 

“Fuck!”

“Merde!”

She missed this. Oh god, did Hermione miss this. Despite what Fleur had assumed, she hadn’t let anyone touch her intimately--not Viktor, not anyone--since Fleur left her a crying mess in her bedroom that terrible night. She had sworn off intimacy, instead throwing herself into her work. When that wasn’t enough of a distraction, she finally said ‘yes’ to the persistent Bulgarian and had been on a few dates, but always made her way home untouched. Saving herself for...for when? For what? For Fleur? Of course, because she was ruined for anyone else. Fleur knew how to touch, caress, bite, kiss, bruise, mark, lick, grab, hold, suck and tongue Hermione perfectly. She was a veela after all. And her mate. 

“More, Fleur! Please! More,” Hermione was panting into Fleur’s ear as Fleur took her on the desk. She felt Fleur withdraw her fingers, swirl them around to coat them in her slickness further, pinch her clit, and then re-enter Hermione forcefully. Hermione didn’t even recognize the sounds tumbling out of her mouth, and could only intuit the meaning of the French words Fleur growled into her ear. They were dirty, possessive and loving, all at the same time. As Fleur continued to pump into her, she felt her hair be pulled from the back, exposing her neck for Fleur to bite down on. Biting, licking, bruising down her throat to her collarbone. Hermione pulled down the top of her dress far enough for her breasts to be exposed before grabbing the back of Fleur’s head and pushing it to her right nipple. Fleur obliged with her mouth, sucking and nipping at the bud. Hermione was close, but she needed, she needed…

Fleur knew exactly what she needed. She slid her fingers out of Hermione’s center to circle her clit, pinch, circle, pinch, re-enter, pump, pump, pump, repeat. Again. Again. Again. Hermione making almost animalistic noises and Fleur responded in kind, with grunts and movement. She felt Hermione getting tighter and tighter, felt her legs start shaking, her body trembling. Moving her fingers expertly and adding just the right amount of pressure there and biting down just enough on Hermione’s breast like so, and Hermione was gone, Fleur’s name disappearing into a silent scream of ecstasy. 

After Fleur coaxed her down, she kissed her soundly. The relief in Hermione’s body almost led her to tears. She pulled Fleur into a full body embrace, arms and legs wrapped around the blonde. She felt Fleur melt into her, hugging her back. They held each other in silence, basking in the afterglow. This evening did not go as planned. 


End file.
